News Intelligence Analysis
Seeing Fahrenheit 9/11
Through the Eyes of an Artist
by Katherine Yurica
July 16, 2004
Editor's note added July 17, 2004: Michael Moore's film Fahrenheit 9/11 has caused a firestorm among some journalists and the far right radical talk show hosts. While most of these individuals accept without question attacks against Democrats and Democratic contenders for public office as the proper and normal pattern of things, (not to mention the verbal crucification of Bill Clinton, that occurred in a frenzied state of moral and spiritual psychosis), they find it perfectly acceptable to attack literature, art, journalism, and films that make important revelations regarding the Bush administration, while never raising the level of inquiry against Mr. Bush to true journalistic investigative reporting. There is a biblical scripture we try to keep in mind. Jesus describes the situation very well:
"And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull the mote out of thine eye; and behold, a beam is in thine own eye? Thou hypocrite, first cast the beam out of theine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to cast the mote out of thy brother's eye." Matthew 7: 3-5, KJV
Seeing Fahrenheit 9/11 was an experience of unforgettable magnitude. It holds the viewers' interest from beginning to end. The film is entertaining in that the events on the screen did not appear to be "documentary" in nature—rather they were riveting, much as a good suspense/action film unfolds before the viewer's eyes. To ask oneself why this could be so reveals the layers upon which the film is built.
One is stumped at what to call the genre Moore is creating. I regard the film to be a work of art rather than an op-ed piece as Moore describes it. Perhaps the most significant aspect of the film is the psychological nuances the camera reveals. It seems to uncover a naked vacuousness in the president by following his eye movements and facial expressions alone. Unlike those who call the film a "propaganda" piece, or those like Michael Isikoff of Newsweek, who endlessly search for and find obscure reasons to declare inaccuracies, I found revelations in the film that only art can produce. Fahrenheit 9/11 exposes the president, but the overwhelming affect of the film is that George Bush was exposed solely by his own acts. No narrative embellishment was necessary.
In fact, the president and his men caused the audience to experience a natural revulsion. Take Wolfivitz for instance, the camera caught him standing in a busy public place with several people. What he did next is disgusting: the man proceeded to give his hair a combing—after all a camera is near. Fine, but what does he do? He covers his comb with his saliva--gobs of it--and plasters his hair down with it, and gives a sly smile into the camera at his behavior. PhD or not—that scene makes it impossible to have anything but a negative reaction to the man. What’s worse, the scene is grotesquely unforgettable.
Moore forces us to look at the president. He used film taken by a teacher in the classroom in Florida when Mr. Bush was informed of the second plane crashing into the World Trade Center. Americans have every right to ask themselves whether their president was a man of action, and whether he exhibited solid and decisive leadership qualities in the face of an emergency? To the contrary, the film shows that Bush just sat on his little stool as a vacuous, uncertain look crosses his face. He continued to read to the children. He looked away. One has to ask, “Is this the President of the United States of America?” The effect is devastating to the nation and to the presidency.
Moore's camera also revealed the humanity of the Iraqi people in their suffering—murdered and maimed by 47,000 U.S. bombs. There is a scene of an older woman, white haired and stressed beyond her capabilities to endure. She calls on God (Allah) to strike America. Who cannot feel the shame of our deeds at the moment Iraqis carry their dead and wounded civilian victims? And who could forget that it was our bombs that wreaked such havoc? And even worse is the stain on America's character by military techniques of abuse and torture against civilians "detained" by the U.S. which the film only suggests momentarily with a scene of Iraqis with hoods on their heads in a night arrest. When the audience at last sees the flag draped coffins of our war dead, in row after row, after row, like crosses in a small corner of Flander's Field, we are moved to accept the reality that we have not honored our dead nor have we honored our injured simply because it is not politically expedient to do so.
The camera switches to the president. He is on a golf course and he makes a little speech about bringing hope and freedom to the Iraqi people in a "just" cause and dismisses the acts of war that might kill civilians to be just a part of the cost of their liberation. Then in a smooth turn, the camera follows the president back to the business at hand, George Bush makes a mighty swing with his club and the golf ball, which suddenly seems and feels like a weapon takes off. "Did anyone notice my form?" the president asks.
The camera takes us to another scene where a kaki dressed figure with a helmet is aiming a rifle. The figure turns around and faces the camera. It's George Bush at a bird shoot! He is pleased with himself.
Most of the shots show the president pleased with himself. When he was asked how he could be conducting the nation's business taking so much vacation time, he stumbles around saying things like, "Well I have a meeting scheduled this afternoon. Oh yes, we're making plans." Then some inner prompt helps bring back the joy of the moment to him and he moves on to the next thing in his life. But one feels it is decidedly not the nation's business!
There is one scene in which the camera focuses on the president's "men." Condoleezza Rice is shown being powdered down just before an on-camera statement. The camera studies her face and the soul of the woman is revealed: an overwhelming ugliness looms onto the screen. It's an ugliness composed of anger, rage, hatred, defensiveness. Just plain sickness of soul emerges. Colin Powell is also shown being powdered down before an on-camera appearance. I have always thought of him as an imposing, powerful figure of a man, handsome in his command of self. But Moore's camera reveals an oily quality of character as the camera strips away the false imagery and reveals the truth of the man's soul. Once again, the viewer feels revulsion.
George Bush is shown being powdered down while sitting at his desk. His eyes grow vacuous again. Something slime-like emerges. He turns his eyes to the extreme left, and one feels a sneakiness a covert aspect of his personality emerges and one shudders. Then the countdown to the President's statement to the nation begins. He squares his shoulders and looks straight into the camera and the apparent forthright cool president emerges again, the only self Karl Rove wants the world to see of the President.
Moore's camera travels with our troops. They express joy at killing—not remorse. Later Moore interviews several who do in fact express remorse and one brave soldier said he will refuse the order that will send him back to Iraq because as he put it, "We are killing innocent men and women and children." Moore turns his camera on the recruitment techniques of the U.S. Marines where young people from the poorest sections in Flint, Michigan are targeted for jobs in the military. The camera sweeps over a neighborhood with houses abandoned and boarded up. The imprint of poverty is everywhere.
The camera journeys with Mrs. Liscomb, a mother who had encouraged her children to join the military services in order to get their college educations. One of her sons is killed. The camera records her pain and tears. It is intrusive. But who can forget her tears and her loss?
Michael Moore has created a new art form. He worked with fascinating material: the raw facts of a presidency that has gone awry. It is quite possible that the film will awaken the American people before it is too late. The critics who yell, “Foul and inaccurate,” will find their words fading into a black hole somewhere in the universe, for the one power art has over such critics is this: art and art alone exposes lies for what they are. Art defeats the lie. One day, Americans will look back at these years and thank God for one man who had the courage to show the truth to the American people.
Katherine Yurica was educated at East Los Angeles College, the University of Southern California and the USC school of law. She worked as a consultant for Los Angeles County and as a news correspondent for Christianity Today plus as a freelance investigative reporter. She is the author of three books. She is also the publisher of the Yurica Report. Her paintings are also exhibited on this web site.
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